Kathryn traces his finger up and down her sword...memories, memories...old useless things, like 'eavy baggage.
Kathryn gasped as she was disarmed by her father easily, then struck her-once, twice, three times...he did so without malice, but with a certain coldness that a teacher must have to instill discipline. There was not much pain, but the feeling she had of failing to impress him was worse than a hundred blows. Despite everything that had happened-and would happen-, she still loved him.
A silver bell was rung by the butler-poor old Alfred, who was the last one. He worked for them out of a profound sense of duty more than anything, and was less a servant than a member of the family himself. He was stoically silent right now, observing the match with interest.
"I do believe that's match points, my darlin' daughter." The man with the charming smile, the natural grace, and the messy crop of red hair took a low bow.
Kathryn returned it...today was fencing practice-blunted swords, luckily. Kathryn was only 15, but she had insisted her father help her practice after that little tart Angelique has bested her in the tourney...and that he did. That he did. His style was much less formal than one might think-he was teaching his daughter to fight and win, and not to look pretty or graceful while doing it.
He didn't hesitate to teach her lessons midstride and midblow-and was not beyond leaving a bruise, if she strayed from lesson. It was an acceptable price for both of them. Living in the Wharf Narrows was dangerous, for anyone-especially the proud, arrogant daughter of a nearly destitue Noble who didn't want to end up warming the bed of some wealthier lordling, by a contractual marriage. By carrying blades, she was sending a challenge to everyone-that she was not for sale. If you wan't something me, you'll have to earn it.
Her Father-Gerald Jones-was himself a master sword fighter, far past his prime and disgraced in the eyes of crown...and he did not hesitate to lecture good naturedly after most bouts.
"Yer 'ave good degree of natural dexterity, but yor style of fightin' is clumsy-it lacks precision and frankly, right, yer leave yorself far too open. Tis' better ter survive a battle than kill ones enemy...as yer will no doubt find out for yorself-yor enemies 'ave many lives, wile yer 'ave but one...
Again! Right! And don't expect me ter go easy on yer this time."
The silver bell was rung, and they moved back into fencing position. Strike...strike...parry...keep moving your feet...
Kathryn was doing better now. She was sure father wasn't taking it easy on her-and she spotted a weakness in his form, that she had long suspected him of trying to hide-the barest of slowed movement on his left side, from the war injury he has sustained in his youth. She pressed the advantage.
Forced him back a step-then another. Then we're both surprised, by neither of them we're about to let it stand at that...he launched his own counterattack-wide, sweeping strikes designed to use his natural reach to it's best advantage. Kathryn style of defense was acrobatic-she didn't have the strength to parry him blow for blow, so she ducked, sidestepped and leaned...and caught the the edge of his blade!
She did as she was trained, flicking it upwards into her opponents guard, dislodging it-you either let go or lost a finger-and struck her father on the left breast. Her first hit.
He was very proud of her...but, the old fighter in him was not about to accept defeat so gracefully. They each took a step back-judging each other. Kathryns heart boomed in her chest like a thundercloud, and she was breathing hard. In truth...she had never felt so alive.
"Now, there's the daughter I've been training for the last four months. Ah, one point ter yer-and yer've disarmed me first blade. Yer 'ave the bloody advantage, now press it! Dont' let yer enemy get a chance to 'atch is breath!"
Well, after that Gerald still managed to defeat her, even with one sword-but, from then on, the gap was less and less...they would keep training...until the day she left. That day, their final bout, was not practice at all...that was the day she won her swords from him.
EXP for Polaris. :3
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Topic: Pokemon Tabletop Adventures: Azure Travels (Read 25166 times)